The Rise and Fall of Kodak: What Happens When You Forget the Customer Experience
For nearly a century, if you thought photography, you thought Kodak. The brand didn’t just sell cameras and film—it shaped how the world captured memories. And then, seemingly overnight, it vanished from cultural relevance and filed for bankruptcy. What happened? In short: Kodak innovated early, dominated globally, and then lost the plot when the customer journey changed. This is the story of how a customer-experience pioneer became a cautionary tale—and what every modern business can learn from it.
“You press the button, we do the rest.” — A CX Revolution (1888 and beyond)
In 1888, George Eastman founded Kodak and rewrote the rules of photography. Before Kodak, taking a photo felt like a chemistry class—glass plates, chemicals, meticulous timing. Eastman’s breakthrough was not just a product; it was an experience. His first consumer camera came preloaded with film and a promise stamped into the slogan: “You press the button, we do the rest.”
That line foretold modern product thinking:
Remove friction: No more complex setups or specialized knowledge.
Design a journey: Shoot → mail the camera to Kodak → receive finished prints → get the camera reloaded and ready.
Create recurring revenue: An early, quasi-subscription model long before SaaS—customers returned again and again because the experience was seamless.
Kodak didn’t merely democratize photography—it codified a customer experience playbook still relevant today: make the core act (pressing the shutter) effortless, and handle the messy parts behind the scenes.
The “Kodak Moment” Era — From Product to Emotion
By the mid-20th century, Kodak wasn’t just a market leader; it was an emotion. A “Kodak moment” meant joy, nostalgia, family, celebration. The company commanded the lion’s share of global camera and film sales, powered national advertising, and embedded itself into cultural rituals—birthdays, graduations, holidays, historic milestones.
The magic wasn’t only the film stock or the hardware. It was the end-to-end promise: reliable devices, widely available film, easy processing, and prints you could touch. Kodak made photography simple and special at once. When a brand aligns its product with life’s moments, switching away becomes emotionally costly for customers.
But emotional moats are fragile. They endure only as long as the experience keeps pace with customer expectations.
The Missed Moment — Inventing (and Ignoring) Digital
In 1975, Kodak engineer Steve Sasson built the first digital camera prototype. It worked, but it was slow (recording an image took seconds), and the quality was primitive by film standards. Still, the direction was undeniable: images could be captured without film.
Inside Kodak, the innovation sparked a dilemma: digital cameras threatened the highly profitable film-and-processing flywheel. Leaders worried that embracing digital would cannibalize the very business that made Kodak a juggernaut. The company protected today’s margins at the expense of tomorrow’s market.
Meanwhile, competitors—Sony, Canon, Nikon, and others—leaned into digital. As sensors improved and storage got cheaper, customer expectations evolved fast: instant review, unlimited shots, no waiting, no laboratory. The new “experience” beat the old one on convenience, speed, and cost. Kodak had the brand, the talent, and the head start—but lacked the organizational courage to disrupt itself.
When the Journey Changes and You Don’t — Decline and Bankruptcy
By the 1990s, digital exploded. Consumers wanted hundreds (then thousands) of photos on a single card, instant previews, and easy sharing. The classic film experience—24 or 36 exposures, careful rationing, waiting for development—felt restrictive. Kodak tried to pivot (including printers and late-stage digital lines) but arrived to the party after customer habits had already shifted.
In 2012, Kodak filed for bankruptcy protection. Ironically, the company still held valuable imaging IP and contributed technologies that later benefited the broader digital and smartphone camera ecosystem—but not in a way that preserved its core consumer franchise.
The CX Lesson: Great experiences aren’t “set and forget.” They must evolve with the customer. Kodak perfected a journey (shoot → develop → print) that customers loved—then didn’t reinvent that journey when customers started loving something else (instant, infinite, digital). The real moat isn’t today’s model; it’s your ability to keep remapping the journey as needs change.
Conclusion
Kodak’s rise began with empathy: remove friction, honor the moment, make it easy. Its fall began when it prioritized protecting a business model over protecting the customer’s evolving experience. The companies that endure practice constructive self-cannibalization: they replace their own winners before someone else does. (Think: iPod → iPhone → iPad; each new experience threatened the last, yet expanded Apple’s relevance.)
If you lead a product or a brand today, ask:
What “messy middle” are we removing for customers—right now?
What journey will replace today’s journey—and are we building it before a competitor does?
Are we willing to retire profitable habits to stay aligned with what customers value next?
The future belongs to teams that keep pressing the next button—so customers can keep pressing theirs.
Let’s get to know each other!